


talk me down

by AndreaAnEnigma



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ambassador Katara (Avatar), Episode: s03e16 The Southern Raiders, F/M, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Minor Aang/Katara, Post-The Last Agni Kai (Avatar), Sharing a Bed, change my mind, just like a little though, zuko and katara are workaholics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaAnEnigma/pseuds/AndreaAnEnigma
Summary: five times Katara and Zuko sleep together (and one time they don't)
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 241





	talk me down

**Author's Note:**

> I'm baaack! Not the Blue Spirit/Painted Lady superhero au I promised, but here's something I wrote for this song because "talk me down" just SCREAMS zutara to me. Let me know if you love it or hate it! Feedback is FOOD.

i wanna sleep next to you,  
but that's all i wanna do right now.  
—troye sivan, "talk me down"

1.

The first time it happened was the night of the Southern Raiders.

The storm had fully set in when they’d left Yon Rha on his knees in the rain, and Katara was quiet, knuckles white on Appa’s reins. She didn’t even blink at the rain, but Zuko saw trails leading from her eyes that shone a little differently than the droplets falling from the sky. He watched her back as every so often, she’d lift a hand to her face, and he could tell she was trying to hide her sniffling, so he didn’t ask. 

It became impossible to ignore, however, when the storm worsened and she suggested they make camp, her voice thick and cracking. He pointed out a cave near the edge of the island below, and wordlessly, Katara led Appa down.

When they touched down in the vast, dark cave, Zuko held up a hand and conjured a flame to light the way as Katara bended the water from Appa’s fur and then her clothes. When he’d made a fire in the center of the cave, she asked, “Do you want my help with that?”

It was the first thing she’d said to him since they’d left, and Zuko hesitated. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy with tears, but she was calm and serious as she held a hand out to him, gesturing at his wet clothes. “Yeah, that’s—that would be nice.”

Katara nodded, and with a flick of her hand, she bent the water from his clothes and tossed it outside the cave. They were silent as she went through their packs, pulling out the seal jerky and fruit they packed for their trip, and he busied himself setting out the bed rolls around the campfire. She narrowed her eyes at him as she did, but she didn’t protest, and he wondered whether it was because she was still suspicious of him or just surprised that he’d helped without asking her first. 

She didn’t say anything though, just sat down by the fire and patted the spot next to her. His eyes widened, and she raised an eyebrow. “The offer’s about to expire.”

Not wanting to waste this opportunity, he clambered down next to her, careful not to sit too close, afraid to overstep as he took the food she’d offered him. They’d been eating in silence for a minute or two, staring at the fire, before Katara spoke. “Are you going to ask?”  
Zuko knew what she was referring to: the way she’d taken control of the Southern Raiders leader with just a flick of her wrist, how his eyes had widened as his body had contorted and twisted without his command, the fact that she’d brought him to his knees without a word. “Do you want me to?”

Katara scoffed. “You must think I’m a monster. Anyone would, after what I did.”

“I’ve read about something like that. It’s a subsect of waterbending, isn’t it?”

Katara nodded, resting her chin on her curled knees. “Bloodbending. I bent the water in his blood. I-I invaded his body, took control of it without his consent. And for a moment, I...I liked it.”

Zuko worked to keep his face neutral; it didn’t scare her what she said. Firebending was a bit like that too, seemingly limitless power stored in your body, and he remembered redirecting lightning, the way it felt to hold that immense amount of energy in his body, bend it to his will. “I get that.”

“Are you-are you afraid of me?”

“Terrified, but no more than usual.” Katara rolled her eyes, but she gave a small smile and waved her hand as if telling him to elaborate, so he continued, “I’d always known you could kill me if you wanted to. This is just further proof of that. All the more reason to stay on your good side.” He gave her a smile, but she didn’t return it, her eyes far away.

“I’d only used it once before, and I told myself never again. But I did it so easily now.” Katara winced. “Am I...bad for using it?”

Zuko thought of all the people he knew who used their bending for evil, and all who used their power for good. He tried to think of what Uncle would say in this moment, and settled on. “The power we have is dangerous, any of us. Toph could bury someone alive if she wanted, Aang could suck the air out of a room full of people, and I could...well, you know what firebenders can do.”

Katara winced. “But they choose not to do that. I chose to use bloodbending.”

“But you didn’t kill him, or Yon Rha.” Zuko shook his head. “It’s not the power that’s evil. It’s how you use it, and Katara, I know I don’t know you, but I _know you_. It’s not in your nature to want to kill. To hurt.”

Her eyes were shimmering. “I wanted to kill Yon Rha. I wanted to. But I-I couldn’t. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

Zuko gave her a sad smile. “I know. You could’ve killed him; I certainly wouldn't have judged you for it. Hell, I probably would have. But you didn’t, and ultimately that’s what matters. The choices we make moment by moment. It’s not how we feel that matters; it’s what we choose to do with that.” 

Katara pressed her lips together. “Do you think I chose wrong?”

Zuko raised his eyebrows. “Do you think you did?”

She seemed to think it over before shaking her head. “No, I didn’t. It wouldn’t have made me feel better, to kill him. But it’s hard to think about that, since I feel so awful right now anyway. Weak. I had him in my hands and I did nothing.”

Zuko wanted to hold her hand, but he didn’t want to freak her out, so instead, he just laid his hand down close and touched his pinky to hers. She didn’t pull away, so he counted that as a victory. “You chose the path that you thought was right. That’s what you did. That’s not nothing. That’s everything.”

“Do you think it’s right?”

Zuko shrugged. “I don’t want to tell you what to do. I can’t tell you what the right way is to deal with your grief is because I don’t think there really is one.” 

Katara pressed her mouth into a thin line. “Aang seemed to think there is.”

“Aang was raised by monks in temples far away from other people. It’s easy to think about what’s right in a vacuum versus dealing with it up close.” He shook his head, wondering how different his life would have been had he been able to keep his morals above the world they existed in. “Not all of us had that luxury, for better or worse. What Aang would do is based on his experience. It doesn’t make what he thinks right or wrong. It’s just different from what you think, and that’s okay.”

Katara nodded before saying, “I like my choices. Whether I should or shouldn’t… I think it just is, you know?”

Zuko knew what that was like. “It happened. Now it’s just a matter of how you want to move forward, and that’s entirely your choice.”

She nodded again, and she seemed to be lost in thought as she suggested they get to sleep. As they settled into their bedrolls, he noticed that she shivered a bit. “Do you want my blanket?”

She shook her head before meeting his eyes shyly. “I, um...I don’t really want to be alone right now. Would it be okay if...do you want to...can you sleep with me?”

She must have noticed the way his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed because she quickly added, “Not-not like that. Just...it’s kind of cold and it’s been a weird day and I-I thought--”

She was just as embarrassed as he was, her blush staining her skin a lovely wine red, and he said quickly, “No, yeah, definitely, I get that. That would be...nice.”

She smiled gently and lifted her blanket. He almost tripped over his own feet as he clambered up to climb onto her bedroll, and she tucked the blanket over both of them. There wasn’t nearly enough room for them to sleep next to each other without touching, and she noticed his arm hanging off the edge. “I don’t bite, Zuko. Unless you deserve it.”

Zuko tried to suppress the shiver that ran through him at that, and she didn’t seem to notice as she continued, “Come closer. It’s okay.” 

She turned her back to him, an unspoken invitation, and he obliged, moving slowly to give her time to change her mind as he carefully molded his chest to her back. His hands flexed listlessly, and he panicked over where to place them, before she took his top arm and settled it over her waist. “You comfortable?” she asked, and her voice was quiet and drowsy.

He really was, despite his frantic internal prayer to Agni to not let him wake up with a hard-on because Katara was beautiful and fuck, he was only human. “Yeah, yeah I am.” 

His voice only shook a little bit as he said it, and thankfully she didn’t comment, just sighed and snuggled a bit closer to him. “Good night, Zuko.”

“Good night, Katara.” His eyes drifted shut, his face half-covered in her hair, and he dozed off with the smell of rainwater and water lilies lulling him to slumber.

2.

Katara should have been sleeping, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to close her eyes all night. She knew she was being paranoid, going so far as to watch as the servants lifted him into the bath, averting her eyes only when he was being lifted naked into the water and again when he was lifted out and helped into his underclothes, to ensure him privacy. While he was in the bath, covered in the glow of her healing, she could only think of her task, any embarrassment at his state of undress blocked out by the desperate tunnel vision that she’d been consumed by after walking away from the Agni Kai.

The servants had stood nervously by, waiting to help dress him in a loose tunic and sleep pants after Katara had rebandaged his wound, and she let them, watching as her heart tugged at the sight of the wound that was still raw and red even after hours spent under her hands.

After he was dressed, Katara dismissed the servants, who were more than happy to get out from under her unrelenting, terrifying gaze. She bolted the door behind them and turned to the boy who lay, unmoving, under the sheets.

If it hadn’t been for the rise and fall of his chest and the weak but steady rhythm of his heart, Katara would’ve sworn he was dead, so she settled herself into the chair beside his bed, watching him underneath the moonlight coming through the windows.

Katara was grateful for Yue’s glow and for the candle on the bedside; it made the darkness of the room and its red decor not feel so frightening, and for a moment the familiarity of both helped her forget where she was as she focused on Zuko, watching him twitch and murmur in his sleep movement, each movement a balm that soothed the worry tearing at her insides.

Katara’s eyelids were drooping, but she fought the exhaustion until suddenly, Zuko gasped and sat up, breathing raggedly, and a hand flew to his torso. Katara shot up, and she hurried to the bedside as his head whipped around. His eyes landed on Katara, and he visibly calmed, murmuring, “You’re here.”

“I’m here. So are you.” She carefully pulled his hand away from the bandages on his chest, cradling it in both of hers.

“You stayed,” he said, his voice even raspier with sleep, and she wanted to cry at the wonder that filled it, like he didn’t think she cared enough.  
Katara gave a laugh that sounded half like a sob. “Of course I stayed, idiotbender.” After a moment, she whispered the next part because it’s true, and she doesn’t want it to be, but it is: “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

“The Agni Kai—is it—where’s Azula?” he asked breathlessly.

“Safe. She’s...subdued.” She doesn’t mention how many vials of sedatives it had taken to get her to stop screaming. “She’s in the infirmary until we think of a place more permanent.”

Zuko nodded, and he winced, looking down at his chest like he just remembered what had happened. “Shit. That really happened.” He looked up at her, his gold eyes roaming over her, and he smiled. “Are you—was it—”

Katara nodded, smiling. “I’m okay. Because of you. You idiot,” she added for good measure.

Zuko gave her a dazed smile. “I’m okay because of you, so I guess we’re even.”

He leaned back as though to lay down and groaned again, so Katara darted forward to help him lie back down. “You’re not off the hook, you know,” she told him, shaking her head. “I’m going to yell at you about this in the morning. Of all the dumb, brave, noble things to do—”

“So you’ll stay until the morning?” Zuko asked, his head lifting off the pillow as he eyed her hopefully. 

Katara knew he must have been half-asleep, with possible brain damage from the lightning, but when he gave her a dopey, sleepy smile and pointed to the bed beside him, she didn’t have the energy to protest, even though she knew she probably should. So she smiled and said, “Sure. Maybe this way I’ll keep you away from any more lightning you might want to meet.”

Katara blew out the candle slid in beside him, pulling the covers over them both, when he muttered, “Would take a hundred lightnings for you. A thousand.” 

She was grateful for the darkness, then, because his words made her flush, and so did the fact that he shuffled over and dropped his head onto her shoulder, right above her heart. She wondered if he could hear it racing, but he just sighed contentedly, burrowing in. 

With no other option, and no motivation to find one, Katara wrapped the arm he was laying on around him, and it was comforting, basking in his physical presence. He was here, and she was here, and spirits, wasn’t that a miracle?

“Thank you,” he murmured, and his warm breath made goosebumps rise on her skin.

Katara’s eyes were already fluttering shut, and not for the first time that night, she whispered back, “I think it’s me who should be thanking you.”

3.

Zuko had thought that after the war, she would find other sources of nightly comfort (namely, Aang), so after the first gathering in Ba Sing Se, he’s surprised to find her on the balcony after everyone has gone to bed, staring at the moon.

She turns around when she hears him approaching and gives him a tired smile, blanketed in moonlight and leaning against the railing. She’s a vision in green, and it’s not as much her color as blue is (or even red, he admits to himself), but it takes his breath away nonetheless, something that’s happened more frequently since Yon Rha, since the catacombs, since she absolutely destroyed him at the North Pole all those moons ago. “Fire Lord.”

“Peasant.” It’s a gamble, but she laughs, and he’s relieved. He hesitates in the doorway. “I can go if you want to be alone.”

“I do, but you don’t count.” She turns back to the moon, motioning him forward, and he comes up to meet her at the railing. “Everything is going to change now, isn’t it?”

Maybe he should say something comforting, like _not everything_ or _it doesn’t have to_ , but it all sounds like lying, and he’s never been good at lying to her. “It is. It has to, I think.”

She turns to him, her face half in moonlight, and he realizes that neither of them is quite in their element here. In Ba Sing Se, in green robes and surrounded by earth, no water or volcanoes in sight, they’re in neutral territory. He doesn’t know what to make of it, and he wonders if she feels as out of sorts as he does, like they’re standing between the past and the future, stalling time until they have to move forward. “I don’t really know what to do now,” she admits. “We’ve been running for so long, and now we don’t have to, but where are we supposed to go from here?”

Zuko knows her question is mostly rhetorical, and he’s relieved because he wouldn’t be able to answer her if it wasn’t. “I don’t really know how to live in a world of peace. Or make one. And I—I have to, now that I’m...ya know.” He waved his hand around his head uselessly, and her mouth twitched.

“I don’t really know who I’m supposed to be now. All my life I’ve been fighting. The Fire Nation, the sexist old men in my tribe…” She hesitates, biting her lip and releasing it. “You.”

Guilt stepped on his windpipe, and he fought it off to say, “I’m so sorry, Katara. For everything.”

“I’ve forgiven you already,” she says, waving her hand like she’s batting away a spiderfly. “But the thing is, I don’t know what to do now that there’s not a war. What’s a warrior without her war?”

His brow furrowed. “You’re still a warrior, Katara. A master. That doesn’t stop now that you’re not fighting. And besides, I think we’re still going to be fighting. Not a war, but for peace. And maybe that’ll be the hardest thing we have to fight for, now.”

Katara considered his words, pursing her lips. “Life is never going to be easy for us. Yours never was, knowing you were going to be Fire Lord one day.” Something flickered in her eyes, and she said, “Nothing about mine has been easy since I broke Aang out of the ice. It was my destiny to, to—” The words caught in her throat, and his heart thudded loudly. “Well, I don’t really know what my destiny is anymore.”

“Your destiny isn’t tied to Aang.”

“Isn’t it?” Katara smiled sadly, and he knows she’s thinking about the kiss on the balcony. He’d seen it from the doorway and wished he hadn’t because it had made him feel things he couldn’t name and he didn’t want to be confused about her, not when they were barely friends and he wasn’t even sure he deserved that much. “Isn’t all of ours, really?”

That throws him for a loop because in a way, it’s true. Zuko owed a lot to Aang, to the Avatar in general, and that makes these strange swirling feelings for Katara feel all the more like a betrayal. Still, he made his own destiny in the end, and he reminded her: “You make your own destiny. Whether that’s with Aang, or alone, or with someone else…” She tilts her head, something like curiosity on her face, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so he continues, “It’s yours now, the whole world, if you want it. You just have to decide to take it.”

Her eyes examine his face, and she must like what she finds there because she smiles. “You’re going to be an excellent Fire Lord. You already have the inspiring speeches down.”

Zuko laughed, and a sudden breeze made him shiver, so she elbowed him in the ribs and said, “Come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s go sit inside before you freeze to death and talk about how you’re going to redecorate the palace because La knows that place needs a makeover.”

So they settle in on the couch in the sitting room, and they talk about the turtleduck pond and his mother’s gardens and how much she misses the South Pole and how she wants to rebuild the healing huts in honor of her mother, and they talk until their eyelids droop and their bodies slump in on each other.

Zuko fell asleep sitting up, with Katara’s head on his shoulder and her remarkably cool breath on her collarbone, and he fights it as hard as he can because he wants to stay in this strange in-between place, where nothing is happening so anything could. 

4.

The next time it happens is three years after the war, during the first summer storm in the Fire Nation. 

The storm blows in on the first day of treaty negotiations between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom about the colonies, and Katara’s always been superstitious, so she can’t help but take it as an omen.

She tries to brush it off, keeping her eyes trained on her notes from today’s meeting, but her eyes keep drifting toward the window, the rain beating a harsh rhythm against the glass. Lightning splits the night sky, and every crack drives a dagger into her chest. Her knuckles are white around the brush in her hand. After a few more failed attempts to focus, she tossed it and the scroll aside, letting out a shaky exhale that echoed off the walls of her private chambers. She was alone, so she felt no shame in dropping her head onto her hands on the desk and letting out a loud, long groan.

Katara had felt the storm coming before it arrived, the surge of power foreboding in her veins, and she’d sent Aang out of her room for the night, citing the need to be alone to get a jump on the next day’s tasks. It was just an excuse. She knew what was bound to happen, and she didn’t want the comfort she knew he’d offer, the overly positive reminders that everything was okay now.

Because it was and it wasn’t, and only she and a certain Fire Lord knew why. 

Zuko’s scar was on his chest, but she knew she’d never be able to heal the ones that were on his heart, his mind, because they were the same as the ones on herself. Her heart was broken in the same places his was, and the sutures bore his name because only the feeling of his heart beating steady beneath her hands had healed the wound torn in her own chest.

Whenever a storm hit anywhere else in the world, she couldn’t sleep, and only reading his letters gave her comfort enough to drift off because they were always dated, and the dates helped her remember that they weren’t still on that battlefield, Zuko lifeless on the ground and twitching with electricity and Katara chaining down a traumatized, abused girl so she couldn’t kill her own brother.

They were just kids. They were _still_ just kids.

As the thought entered her mind, she was up and moving, already reaching for the doorknob before she realizes what she’s doing. She hesitates; he was probably sleeping already. She was the night owl of their relationship, so he was probably dead to the world by now—

The phrase had no sooner entered her mind before the implications of it made her nauseous and she wrenched open the door. 

Zuko stood there, fist hovering in the air as though he’d been about to knock, and a sheepish smile emerged on his face. “Hello,” he said shyly, voice low.

“‘Zuko here,’” she couldn’t help but blurt in a crude imitation of his voice, and he rolled his eyes. Her shoulders loosened at the motion, some of the tension leaving her body at the sight of him in the doorway.

But his eyes were rimmed red, and his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes, so she knew he was just as torn up as he was. It must have been after midnight, but she didn’t think twice about stepping aside and saying, “Come in.”

He’s a vision in his night clothes, no topknot, his hair loose and shaggy to his shoulder. This is one of her favorite versions of Zuko, one she hasn’t seen since the war, and her heart pangs at the sight. In dark red, he’s a lovely contrast to the blue decor of the room; she knows he had every guest room designed to mimic the traditions of the occupants, and this is hers. Whenever she’s here, she goes to bed with a smile on her face, soothed by the evidence of his care in the navy silk tapestries, the fur blankets and rugs, the carved whalebone candle holders. 

Now, against the light of the moon and sea of blue decorations, he looks like a lighthouse set aflame, cutting through the dark, and when he looks at her, his eyes are lit by the candles’ flames, calling her weary ship home. “I couldn’t sleep,” he confesses. “I just...every time there was lightning, I kept seeing it, and—”

She doesn’t let him finish. She is pulled to him like waves to the shore, and she crashes into him, throwing her arms around him and clutching him to her. “Me too. Every time, I could see it. I could see you and the lightning and everything is blue and horribly bright…”

Zuko freezes for a moment before melting into her, wrapping her up in his strong arms. She is surrounded by his scent, firewood and jasmine and smoke, and she can’t get enough, just presses her cheek to his chest and inhales. “What if I’d been too late?” he murmurs, and it sounds like a half-sob.

She’s thought about that too but not as much as she’s wondered: “What if I’d been too late? Too slow in saving you, and you...You would’ve died, all because I didn’t just stay with Appa—”

He’s shaking his head before she’d gotten halfway through the sentence. “No. Stop that. It’s not your fault. You wanted to be there for me in case I needed you and I did and Agni, Katara, I do. I needed you then, and I need you now still.” 

Katara’s heart thudded in her chest, and she knew he probably didn’t mean it like that, but it made her knees quiver nonetheless. She pulled back to see him and almost cried at how open and honest his face was, raw with gold eyes glassy with tears. He gave a half-chuckle. “That’s why I came here. I needed to see you, to believe that you’re here. Is that selfish of me? To ask more from you than already given.”

“No, no, brave boy.” She reaches up and cups his cheek, sweeping her thumb over the scar. His lashes, wet with tears, flutter shut momentarily as he leans into her touch. “I was coming to find you. I needed to see you too. I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep had I not seen you. I thought I was selfish too, for wanting to wake you.”

He’s searching her face, and he must decide she’s telling the truth because he replies, “No, you wouldn’t have woken me. I couldn’t sleep without seeing you either. It’s not selfish, not at all. I’m always here for you, do you understand that?” He reaches up and hesitates a bit before placing his hand, feather-light, on her neck.

This is wrong. Katara knows it is, but nonetheless her pulse quickens at how close his face is, and his mouth twitches like he could feel it under his thumb. This is wrong, she repeats in her head, forcing herself to picture Aang and his wide, trusting eyes, so she allows herself to tighten her grip on his cheek once before dropping it back to his arm. That was the wrong choice too; she was distracted by the flex of his bicep under her hand, and the feel of it made her dizzy.

His hand dropped, and he gave her a smile as he stepped back. Her blood lurched toward him, as though trying to get him to stay close, but she held back, just barely. “Well, we should probably…” He jerked his head to the door, shrugging. “Long day tomorrow, and I’ve already kept you up.”

“I’d stay up all night for you,” Katara said before she could stop herself, and she blushed, putting a hand to her mouth even though it didn’t matter now.

Zuko grinned. “Yeah, I know. I would too, for you.” There was a shuffle outside the door, and he cringed. “Not looking forward to having to pass the guards on my way out. They love to gossip.”

“No juicier story than the Southern Water Tribe ambassador and the Fire Lord having a moonlit chat,” she chuckled. “You could always climb down the balcony...or you could stay until shift change.”

Shift change was at dawn, and they both knew it. Zuko held her gaze, and she refused to back down, so he nodded tentatively. “We both need our sleep, and I don’t anticipate either of us getting any with all that business out there.”

Lightning struck again, as though in agreement, and they both winced, sharing an understanding smile. She sheds her robe, blushing at the fact that she’s only wearing a white satin shift underneath, and his eyes, molten gold, linger on her just a little too long before he averts his eyes. She suppresses a shiver as she gets under the covers and hopes she can play it off as a chill. She pats the blankets next to her. “Well, are you getting in, Your Highness?”

Zuko pulls off his own robe, and he’s not wearing a tunic underneath, just his loose sleep pants, and it’s Katara’s turn to ogle him as he gets into bed. He smirks but doesn’t call her on it as he settles in beside her. His voice is soft as he asks, “Can I be big spoon?”

She smiles at how shy he sounds and turns to give him her back. He pulls her flush against him, tangling his legs with hers and tentatively laying an arm across her hip. He’s always so warm, and she sighs as she snuggles back against his, surrounded by his heat and feeling safer than she had in months. His warm breath washes against her shoulder, and she squeezes her eyes and wishes that she didn’t wish he’d press his lips to her skin.

“Katara?” he whispers into the night.

“Zuko?”

“I’m glad we’re alive.”

She lays a hand over the hand that’s splayed across her stomach and tangles her fingers with his. “Me too.”

5.

Over the next year, it happens more times than it should, and Katara starts to think that maybe she has a problem.

Whenever she’s in the Fire Nation, with Aang or not, she and Zuko somehow always manage to fall asleep together at least once. Out of everyone in the group, they’re the ones prone to working late, Katara to make the most of her time in his court and Zuko because he works too much even when his friends are in town. It’s no surprise to anyone that they’re both running low on sleep in favor of sparring late into the night or rising early to squeeze in more meetings.

It’s because of sheer exhaustion, she lies to herself, that they sometimes wind up falling asleep face-down on the tables in the library, under trees in the gardens when they’re supposed to be taking afternoon tea, or leaning against the back of his desk while hiding from his advisors. She lies to herself about it no matter how often it happens, no matter how refreshed she is even after being slumped in an awkward position, no matter how safe she feels with some part of herself touching him as they doze. She lies to herself every time that it won’t happen again.

She lies to herself up until she realizes that she can’t anymore.

“Honestly, you’d think after four years they would’ve grown up by now,” Katara said, shutting the door to Aang’s room, where they’d left their friends passed out on the floor in front of the fire. 

Zuko chuckled. “I don’t think any of us have grown up as much as we should have by now.”

“It’s the trauma.”

“Is that why Toph finished off two bottles of wine every time you had your back turned?”

Katara rolled her eyes; the earthbender was the youngest of the group and yet held her liquor much better than any of the rest of them did. “I knew sneaking that many bottles of plum wine from the welcome banquet was a bad idea.”

Zuko smirked as they walked down the hall, their steps hushed against the carpets. He nodded to the guards making their rounds. “And yet you were the one who bent them away from the table every time my ministers had their back turned.”

Katara fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Consider it reparations for the Southern Water Tribe.”

Zuko stroked his chin exaggeratedly. “That’s fine reasoning, Ambassador.”

“Your Majesty’s generosity knows no bounds.” Katara looked around, casting a furtive glance to the end of the hall where her chambers lay. “I really don’t feel like going to sleep right now.” The full moon was approaching, and its energy buzzed in her veins, making her feel jumpy and wide-awake. It didn’t help that she and Zuko had fallen asleep near the turtleduck pond early, getting a luxurious thirty minutes of dozing between meetings, so now she wasn’t the least bit sleepy.

Zuko cast a glance at the windows lining the top of the hall, and he said, “Want to go spar?” with an eyebrow raised in an all-too-familiar challenge. 

She grinned wolfishly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Their sparring started off the way it normally did, the two of them not holding back, but as the night wore on, Katara started to notice that their movements were changing into something less like fighting and more like dancing, pulling them together and pushing them apart as though each was held on strings.

She would throw up a wall of water and he’d cut right through it, ending up just inches in front of her as steam billowed around them. 

He’d pull up fire daggers and charge her, and she’d wrap a water whip around his wrist and yank him close to her so he’d overshoot the movement and they’d end up chest to chest, his knuckles brushing the curve of her hip as it slipped past her.

It slipped into hand-to-hand combat seamlessly, without any thought from either of them, and that’s when Katara realized she’d made a huge mistake.

He’s more trained than she is, but she can hold her own after years of sparring with Suki, so they’ve grown more evenly matched over the years. Maybe it’s the moon giving her strength, or maybe it’s the fact that neither of them are really trying right now, but they’re doing more touching than hitting, dodging and weaving around each other with hands on wrists and ankles tangling together in an intricate dance that it seems they’ve done for years. She can feel him everywhere, at her back, her neck, her hips, and when she throws him to the ground and he grabs hold of her wrist, she knows she can break his hold, but it’s late and she’s keyed up and things with Aang haven’t been great, so she lets Zuko pull her down because Tui and La, she just wants to be close to him.

She landed, predictably, right on top of him, and they both gasp from the impact. His hands fly up to her hips as his eyes roam over her body. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Katara shook her head, bracing herself on her elbows by his head, her hair falling over him in a curtain. She tosses it back, and she sees the way he eyes the curve of her neck with something like hunger in his eyes. She should be scared, ashamed, desperate to pull away from him, but she doesn’t feel any of that now. All that she feels is him and her and the moon and all her secrets, the weight of every night she’s felt safer in his arms than she ever has in the Avatar’s. They’re not shut up in a bedroom or an office or a library here; they’re out in the open where anyone can see, and she’s never felt more free.

“Katara,” he murmured, and she realized she’d been staring. “What’s going on in your head right now?” 

His hands flexed at her hips, and a tremor runs through her, making her press tighter against him. He must notice because there’s a stirring at her pelvis that doesn’t come from her, and he gives a ragged gasp.

She wanted to say _I sleep better when I’m with you_ or _all I dream about is you and Aang is starting to notice_ or even _I love you so much please don’t make me fall asleep without you_ , but the words are caught in her throat and hiding behind her teeth, so she just leaned down, pressing her chest to him, holding his gaze.

His eyes were dark amber, pupils blown, and he cupped her cheek, tangling his fingers in her hair and holding her still. “Are you sure?”

Katara hadn’t been sure of anything since the end of the war, but she was sure that nothing has felt right since Aang kissed her on the balcony in Ba Sing Se, and nothing had ever made her feel as safe and secure and _right_ as sleeping beside Zuko through sweet dreams and nightmares. So she nodded and whispered, “Please.”

She leaned down, and he reached up, and when their lips touched, she though _this is what it’s like to burn_.

The sting of it was cold and hot at the same time, like lightning or jumping into the sea in winter, and the shock of it leaves her wanting more, and she presses her body impossibly closer to his as his tongue meets hers. His mouth is not warm but hot, burning her from the inside out, and he tastes like cinnamon and smoke and the plum wine they’d had earlier. His hands are tight in her hair, and she reaches up to card her fingers through his, her other hand roaming up his side, feeling the muscles of his torso jumping beneath her touch. One hand slides down her spine, pressing hard into the small of her back, drawing her into him, and she moans.

They were both sweaty and covered in dirt, but the firebender beneath her sighs into her mouth and whispers her name raggedly against her lips, and she has never felt more holy, more worshipped, more _loved_.

It was that thought that made her pull awake with a gasp, and she stared down at him, chest heaving. His eyes were wide and his lips were red and swollen, and oh spirits, how she loved him.  
What in the world has she done?

It was not supposed to be like this. Not tainted with the presence of another man in her life, the weight of an entire relationship that she’s always believed was destined to be. They’ve lived this life in secret, sleeping next to each other and brushing it off because they’d never actually done anything. 

But now they had, and she can’t look away. 

“I need to go,” she muttered, rearing back on her knees and shooting up.

Zuko looked dazed as he sat up. “Katara, please. Don’t run from this.”

“I’m not running,” she insisted, but her steps back quickened as she said this, and she hated the look on his face, crestfallen but still so full of love that she feels like the world’s biggest idiot because how could she have ever missed it before? “I just, I need to—I’m sorry.”

Then she was running across the training ground, refusing to look back.

6.

When she doesn’t come to his room that night, Zuko is sure he’s lost Katara forever.

So he lay awake at night, not sleeping, committing every detail of the kiss to memory, how her hair had fallen in his face so he’d held it back in one fist, a hand on her back to guide her into him. He has memorized the feel of her body pressed against his while they’ve slept, but he’d never held her like that before: brazen and bold and pressing into him with abandon, her soft warm lips breathing life into him.

Until she’d left him on the training ground, dizzy and incoherent and so in love that he thought the world would catch fire under his back. 

His throat closed up as he remembered the way she’d jerked away from him, a storm of emotions that for once he couldn’t read, the way she’d almost tripped over herself in order to get away from him, and he presses his palms to his eyes as he feels tears form. Should he have pushed her away before they’d kissed? But she’d looked at him like _that_ , like he was a decision she’d just made, and he wanted to be _hers_ , so he’d kissed her without a second thought, even though she was dating Aang—

Oh fuck. Aang. What was he going to tell Aang? Should he tell Aang anything? Fuck, why had Katara left him before he could ask her about this?

Why had she left him at all?

There was a knock at his antechamber door. 

Zuko exhaled heavily. It was dawn and his first meeting wasn’t for another two hours. He really didn’t want to see anyone right now, especially not after—

He grabbed his robe off the chair and slid it over his shoulders, tying it loosely as he pulled open the door. “Whatever this is about—”

“Good morning to you too.” Katara smiled weakly up at him.

Zuko stared down at her, his words evaporating on his tongue. “Katara. You’re…”

“Did I wake you?” She fidgeted a bit, fingering the ends of her hair like she did when she was nervous.

Why was she here? Didn’t she hate him? “Um, no, I wasn’t sleeping. I couldn’t, not after…”

“Me either.” She shifted her weight and asked, “Can I come in?”

Zuko could only nod, letting her in. She was in the same clothes she was in last night, the sparring clothes still dusted in the dirt of the training grounds and her hair still mussed. Her eyes were red, her cheeks tear-stained, but when she smiled at him, it was genuine. What the hell was going on?

“I’m sorry for walking out on you like that, without explaining.”

“I thought you were mad at me,” he said.

She gave him a bemused smile. “Zuko, I kissed you. Why would I be mad at you for that?”

“You have a boyfriend, I shouldn’t have let you—”

“Had. Had a boyfriend.”

Zuko swore his heart stopped, and his eyes widened. “What?”

Katara nodded, wringing her hands. “That’s where I went, after...I went to talk to him. I couldn’t keep going, not while Aang and I were together. It was already horrible of me to initiate something, and it was selfish of me, but...La, Zuko, I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”

Her blue eyes burned into his, and she was serious, and he thought of nights he’s woken up from nightmares and reached out to look for her and ached when she wasn’t there, remembers spending hours talking shop with her only to fall asleep together on the floor of his chambers, the way her hand had felt on his shoulder jolting him awake so they could move to the bed. He remembers mornings with her curls frizzy and her eyes hooded with sleep while she smiled up at him from a tangle of sleets. 

Every time he held her and wished for more, every time he looked at her and _want_ ate at his insides, every time his gut twisted whenever he saw her and Aang together...every moment slams into his chest as the blue-eyed waterbender stands before him, shaking and brave with her heart on her sleeve. 

He remembered that look. He remembered it from the Agni Kai. He remembered it from the night after Yon Rha. He remembered it from the catacombs. Fuck, why hadn’t he realized it sooner? 

“I think I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a really long time."

Her lips parted, and her words were soft as they escaped. “You have?”

Zuko nodded, and his hands twitch and reach for hers. 

Katara met him halfway, her hands squeezing both of his tightly. “I…” She swallowed thickly. “Aang and I are over. It wasn’t right, hasn’t been for a long time. I just ignored it because I thought we were supposed to be together.” She wrapped her hands around his waist and drew him into her, his hands flitting to her hips. She held his gaze, her eyes holding his heart in a vice grip like she’s using her bloodbending, and he thought that he had never ever stood a chance against this beautiful, smart, kind, fierce waterbending master. “But you showed me that we make our own destiny, and I want to start now. With you.”

“With me?” A flare of hope erupted inside of him, and it consumed him until she was all he could see. Zuko gripped her hips tightly to ground himself, remind himself that she’s here and he’s here and she wants to be _together_. 

“Yes, idiotbender. With you.” She smiled shyly, squeezing his waist for emphasis. “I’m yours. If you want me.”

And oh Agni, he does. “I love you. Just so you know.”

Katara put her hand on his scarred cheek, her eyes burning with desire, and he cupped her neck, drowning in the coolness of her skin, and when their lips met, he swore he could see the sun and the moon collide behind his eyelids. He knows neither of them have slept, and they both have court in less than two hours, but as her hands clutch desperately at his shoulders and drag him backwards into his bedroom, he can’t bring himself to care.

They have a lifetime of late nights and sunrises, midnight tears and afternoon naps, so in the end, what’s wrong with sleeping in?

**Author's Note:**

> That's all, folks! I'm thinking of doing a multichapter zutara quarantine au, and I'm lowkey really excited, so let me know if that's something y'all wanna see. I love you, and stay safe and sane out there!


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